Beauty and the Beast
by D.K. Archer
Summary: A retelling of the fairy tale.
1. prologue

Beauty and the Beast   
A story by D.K. Archer   
Based from the Fairy Tale   
---------------------------   
Note: 1) this was written as a gift for my mother christmas 2000. All stuff is hers, in a sense.   
2) as you read, you may notice problems with the word 'to'. There is an error in my program centered around that word. Please ignore it.   
--------------------------- 

Prologue 

The hooves of the horse made little sound on the layers of dead decaying leaves that covered the path. It was hardly used anymore, having originated as an alternate route for the royal family to sneak out of the palace for leisure time. The currently reigning king had no need for it. Wherever he went, he went with much fanfare and attention, and the idea of a back road was almost obscene to him. 

The rider looked every bit a shadow of death. The old woman who had sent him ahead with the message had made sure he was frightening, mounting him on an enormous black horse with red sparks in it's eyes, and clothing him in many heavy robes of black cloth. It seemed unusual theatrics for so simple a thing as delivering a message. He turned the small note over in his hands, examining the red wax seal on the front. It was pressed with the image of a bird. 

The black horse snorted and turned it's head about, alerted by something nearby. The dark trunks of trees pressed close, their high branches blocking out any light the meager stars might have afforded. There! Something moved out in the dark, not so much that he saw it but that he felt it, as if the ground and stone and leaves were his flesh and fingers. He felt steps out there, as they crossed and recrossed. A low growl..... 

The dancing horse let out a shriek and reared back, knocking him to the ground. He landed heavily on his side and groaned, feeling white pain shoot thru his ribs and shoulder. The horse's hooves barely missed crushing him as the creatures in the dark moved before and behind them. He recognized the lowered heads, the coarse fur, the brush tails held out straight behind them. 

Wolves! 

He screamed as they lunged at him, ripping the cloth of his robes, nipping at the horse's legs. The animal stepped back onto his downed body, crushing leg bones into useless fragments. 

The screaming continued for a long while, before melting into growls and wet snaps.   


Dawn dragged slowly up on the eastern horizon, bringing with it the songs of birds and the waking motions of the village. However, one old woman, said by the entire town to be a witch, sat by the door of her small house as if she were awaiting something. In fact, she was. She rocked back and forth on her old scrawny legs, watching the thin sheep of the neighbor be herded out of their pen to be sold in another town. 

From down the road came the steady clop of hooves, and she looked up the see the long awaited sight. The black horse she'd sent the night before walked slowly, head hanging in exhaustion. It's rider, however, was missing. A scrap of black cloth hung from the saddle horn as if deliberately put there. 

The old woman shrieked angrily and ignored the eyes turning to her. The messenger had been the last effort, the final warning to the King. She had gone many times to the palace herself, demanding he listen to her. The taxes he ordered to pay for his extrodinary lifestyle drained the life from the towns and cities he controlled. At current time it was a fifty percent tax on all purchased goods, as well as land taxes, road taxes, and even horse taxes. To pay the unavoidable fees the people had to sell what they grew. Half the money went to the tax for the selling of the product, the other half for the paying of standing taxes. Families found themselves going hungry with a full crop. 

The king had no care for any of it. Seven times she had gone to the palace, and seven times she had been turned away. Finally she had sent a messenger. The note was simple; it put in danger the one thing the king might hold sacred. His wife was pregnant with a child, which was to be their only heir. If a man could not care for his people, he could surely care for his son! The old woman was a witch, a self taught one of the most powerful kind, and could cast spells over great distances. So she wrote: 

_Relieve the taxes or your child will suffer for your stubbornness._   
_ --The Witch_

The black horse, unmistakably hers, being sent back alone was all the indication of refusal she needed. In an angry storm she stomped into her cottage and pulled the iron cauldron out from it's place over the cook fire. It was already filled with water, in preparation for the making of the days soup. She took from her shelves several bottles and boxes and objects of curiosity and arranged them around her, ready for use. Taking a deep breath, she began to work her magic.__

_"Isthial, Liarcha, listen to me!_   
_and grant me this thing that I ask of thee._   
_Take the new child of the king_   
_and turn it into a hideous thing!_   
_with pointed fangs and eyes so bright,_   
_a dreadful manner and a fearsome sight!_   
_In this form he shall stay till, unlike those above,_   
_he learns the powers of kindness and love!"_

*** 

Painful shrieks and gasps fell against the grey stone walls, covered heavily in tapestries and hangings. Disheveled lady servants scurried about, taking quick orders from a round chinned woman in her thirties who's hair was thinning around the cap and who's sleeves were rolled up around her shoulders. Her red cheeks were no comparison to the Queen's. In fact, the Queen's entire face was claret, as well as her neck and shoulders and probably the rest of her, too. Sweat fell from her forehead to the thin linen sheets and her fingernails were dug deeply into the palm of a servant, who looked to be regretting ever offering her hand. 

"Again, your majesty, just give me one more push. The head is coming!" 

The queen's face contorted and an odd sound issued from her throat. The servant who's hand she clutched winced and stared at the Queen's knee, not really wanting to know if her palm was bleeding yet. 

"There, it's almost, just a little--" The sentence ended in a squeak and the face of the midwife drained slowly to a horrible, waxen color. However, she did not stop working. The queen hardly noticed the silence but servants, no longer being shouted orders at, stood around the door, whispering nervously. Was it dead? What was going wrong? 

The queen gave a final shout and slumped back on the bed covers, finally releasing her servant's hand. The girl stared at the red marks and flexed her fingers a few times before creeping around to the end of the bed to see what was the matter. 

Her strangled squeal sent the other servants forward. The midwife hastily wrapped the infant in a waiting square of cloth before they could see, and hurried off to the king.   


Hardly an imposing man despite his status, the king was now terrifying. His fists were clenched and his upper lip pulled back a bit in an furious sneer, straight yellowed teeth exposed. The corner of his right eyebrow twitched rapidly as he paced. 

"How dare you present this thing to me! What ghoulish prank is this!?" 

"No prank, your majesty." the midwife said, readjusting the bundle in her arm a bit. The infant, though it had not cried, was quite obviously alive. Sharp black eyes were open and watching, observing the world with an odd intelligence usually absent at that age. A rough pink tongue was stuck between it's lips, which split on top into two halves, and the glisten of two white eyeteeth were already present in it's mouth. 

"This..this thing is not even human! Not even the semblance of a human!" 

"Your majesty, I assure you, it is your son. I have birthed enough children that I have seen the misshapen, the deformed. This one is perhaps the worst I have seen, but--" 

He cut her off with a movement of his hand. After a long moment of his silent pacing, a guard that still stood by the door stepped tenativly forward. 

"Your majesty, could this not, perhaps, be the work of . . . a witch?" 

The king's head snapped up and he seemed to cling onto the idea. 

"A witch! Of course! Some horrible old spinster cursed my son! They'll pay for this!" he paused "Who would do this?" 

"Well, your majesty, there was an old witch from Burkitstown here several times demanding you lower taxes. It could very well be her." 

"Fine! Bring her here immediately!" 

The guard bowed curtly and hurried out. The midwife rolled her eyes, one finger absently stroking the infant's hand. It was beginning to sleep now, lids slowly closing. The poor, horrible thing. It would likely be dead by morning. It hadn't cried yet, and that was always an ill sign. Such accidents rarely lived thru their first year. Most didn't even survive their first night. That was a mercy of nature; to clean up it's mistakes. 

The king dismissed her, and as she left, she saw the infant close it's eyes. Hopefully for the last time.   


"Woman, you are under grave suspicion." the king said, hands folded in a deceptively calm fashion behind his back. "Are you the witch who has cursed my son, your prince?" 

"Yes." she said, sounding equally calm, though she didn't feel it. The old witch was thin and greying, perhaps even more so than when she cast the spell. She was old. She had at least a good sixty years behind her, a remarkable age for anyone. 

"Then undo it. Now. Or face the consequences." 

"I will not undo it." 

The only response, other than a tightening of the king's jaw, was a small sigh from the queen. She sat listlessly on a stool, face pale and eyes reddened. Though a while had passed since her pregnancy, she was not a all well. The misshapen nature of her son took it's toll on her. 

"You, your majesty, are a cruel and terrible ruler. You tax your people to starvation and expect no consequence. This is your consequence. A son that will be hideous, not even human. It is yours and yours alone." 

The king, entirely unused to being insulted, fumed. 

"I will not be spoken to is such a fashion! Guards! Take her and behead her! Then burn the body and bring her head to me!" 

The witch's eyes widened, but she said nothing. She had known to expect this. There was no other outcome. Truthfully, she couldn't undo what she had done. The way to end the spell was written into the spell itself, and no other way could reverse it. She walked beside them, refusing to be dragged. The executioner was brought and her legs were kicked out from under her, sending her smacking rather painfully against the wooden block, stained and trying quite hard to rot with all it's bloody weight. She closed her eyes against the darkness. 

_Isthial, will you help me?_

be still, child. all is not done with

A shock, that for an instant was blue pain, then a cold, spreading darkness. Her open eyes faded to a vast black nothingness. And staring out at her, eerie pinpoints against the nothing, were two round eyes the color of winter ice. She shivered, was drawn to them....then silence. 

-end prologue- 


	2. chapter 1

Beauty and the Beast   
A story by D.K. Archer   
Based from the Fairy Tale   
--------------------------   
Chapter 1 

Annabella and Alexandra sat both at the window shelf of the girl's shared bedroom, looking out listlessly. Out in the yard, nothing more than a swatch of green clover speckled with tiny pink flowers, their other sister, Beauty, was hanging the laundry out on the line. Beauty was not her real name, of course, but as a child she had been the family pet, and they had called her Little Beauty. Even in a colorless working dress with her hair pinned messily up on her head, she was pretty. It wasn't so much her face but her manner that made it so. Every movement was graceful, every word was gentle and caring. She caught Annabella's eye and smiled at her. 

Annabella did not return it. 

Far off in the fields, their three brothers and their father worked in the sun. The boys were quite useful now, now that the money was gone and this was all there was. Before, when their father had been a rich merchant, the boys had been just as wasteful and indulgent as the two sisters had been. They spent their money on new suits and entertainments, even when the trouble began. First, the warehouse containing half their goods burned to the ground. That alone did not ruin them, but then one of the dockside men that traded goods for them ran off with the profits. Their last hopes were on several ships coming back from India with cloth and spices. None returned to port, and were presumed wrecked or pirated. 

Now, all their money gone, the merchant had to sell his fine house and costly things. Annabella and Alexandra took it the hardest, suddenly finding themselves without friend or suitor. Now that they lived as common peasants they still refused to work, sitting about in their room all day moaning their loss. 

As for the merchant, in many ways he was better off poor. As a rich man he had stayed awake at night worrying about his assets and ships. Now, his work was honest and his own, and he slept soundly at night without trouble. Beauty, who had never been terribly comfortable with the money, didn't mind either. She liked working, cooking for the family, sewing their clothes and keeping them happy. She felt useful this way. 

Beauty balanced the laundry basket on her hip and watched a horseman trot down the field path towards her father. Apparently her sisters noticed too, because in only a few moments they were out of the house, skirts in their fists. 

"Who's that?" Alexandra asked. "Do you recognize him?" 

"No. Perhaps we have a visitor!" Annabella said excitedly. It had seemed forever since anyone had come to see them. 

"Well lets go see!" Beauty said, starting off towards the horseman. Unfortunately, he left as they got near. Annabella huffed. 

"Oh, of course, I should have known better than to think anyone would come to visit me!" 

"Oh, it's not as bad as all that." Beauty said, putting her free hand over Annabella's shoulder. "He might have been a messenger with good news!" 

The girl moved away from her sister's touch. Their father and brothers ran up to meet them, faces split with wide grins. 

"Girls, girls, wonderful news!" their father said happily. 

"What is it, father?" 

"One of the ships came back!" the youngest brother blurted, to excited to hold it in. 

"Yes!" the merchant confirmed. "It came back to a port city in the kingdom south of here. I'm to go immediately to claim the cargo!" 

Annabella and Alexandra squealed happily and danced together on the dirt path. Beauty, though not all that pleased by the return of wealth, was happy for them. She hugged her father and kissed his cheek, and hugged her brothers, too. 

"Now, I'm going to buy you girls each a gift with the money from the cargo. Come now, tell me what you want, each of you." he said, putting his palms together. 

"Dresses!" Alexandra said immediately "Beautiful dresses!" 

"And jewels!" Annabella added. "and corsets and combs and fancy shoes..." 

The merchant listened to their list with increasing dismay. The two daughters seemed to think the entire fortune had been returned, not just a fraction of it. But he nodded and said he would get these things for them if he could possibly obtain them. 

Beauty was a clever girl, and knew that the cargo from even two ships couldn't pay for the things her sisters had asked. When her father turned to her, she smiled and shook her head. 

"I don't want anything, father." 

His face fell a bit, and Beauty quickly mended her words, putting her arms around his neck again. 

"Yes! There is something you can get me. We don't have any flowers in our garden, though it's very nice. Bring me a rose, like the ones we used to have?" 

"A rose?" Annabella said scornfully "All that wealth and you ask for a rose?" 

But her father smiled. "If it's a rose you want, then a rose you shall have, my Beauty. Boys, ready the horse!" 

Several weeks and much travel hardship later, the merchant arrived in the port city of the kingdom to the south. He was horrified by the poverty he saw there. Though the crops were good and the fishermen caught many fish, people still went hungry. They sold their food to pay their taxes. Unfortunately, that tax also applied to ship cargo. Collectors were waiting at the dock to take their choice of the items as tax to the crown. At first, he thought this would be no problem, but the collectors took nearly half the cargo. What remained he made very little profit from, and it wasn't even enough to pay the wages of the ship's crew. 

He left the port far poorer than he arrived. 

It would not have bothered him nearly so much if he had not promised all those fine things to his children. He was so distracted by his thoughts he forgot where he was going, and was hopelessly lost. 

The horse walked of it's own accord, the clop of it's solid hooves muffled by the leaves on the path. Above, the broad green leaves that blocked the sun seemed somehow dark. It felt as though he were riding thru a tunnel, the path the only surface on the flat plane, the rest painted murals on the close pressed walls. Here and there something seemed to stare out at him from beyond the mural, something not bound by rules of dimension. Eyes the color of winter ice, and oil black feathers flashed in the mural. Closer. Further. An inch from his face. 

The horse continued along comfortably and without note of the oddity that watched them. The merchant tried to turn the horse, pulling sharply on the reigns, wanting it to break the walls of Tunnel and return to the known path. It refused. 

The small universe became filled with the sound of trickling water, something appealing even to him, as he had neglected his own dry throat in favor of darkened thoughts. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to find this stream before returning to the path? He urged the horse on. The animal sped it's pace a bit to oblige him. There seemed to be a continual watch now, something blue and oil black that lingered deep inside the mural, just beyond the corner of his eye that, if he turned his head quickly, he could get a glimpse of. He learned nothing he didn't already know. 

The sound of trickling water led him to the sudden and abrupt death of Tunnel, at the very gates of a high stone enclosure. 

With the illusion broken, the flat plane stretched to encompass the forest and the world. The murals shattered. He could now go anywhere he wished. The glint of oil black feathers returned sharply for a moment, the doors groaned painfully and swung open on misused hinges. Immediately within the entrance was a fountain, a stone creature with seven stone fish that forever poured water into the basin. He nearly fell from his mount in his eagerness to get down, and buried his head in the cold flow if the liquid. 

A little sedated now, he glanced about the garden he had entered. Plants seemed to grow rampant in an oddly orderly fashion. Grey stone statues of all conceivable creatures filled the gaps, eagles and ocelots, lions and wolves. Here and there were animals that did not really exist. He found himself staring into the cold, blank eyes of a monster with a lion's mane and a goat's legs. It was looking right back at him, smirking with it's harelip mouth. 

"Is anyone here?" 

The scratched wooden door leading into the house itself pulled open in the flutter of invisible wings. The passage way it led into was twisted, lit by the eerie grins of stone creatures with candles in their mouths. Wax spilled over their chins like madmen drooling. It occurred upon the merchant's mind that this was not a normal place. Perhaps a kind fairy spirit had taken pity on his situation and wanted to shelter him for the night? A silly notion, really, but it is odd the things the mind does while in the darkly lit halls of a stranger's home. 

Useless interior gargoyles and odd chained grotesques stared down at him from their scattered perches. One standing at the end of the hall, a huge lion with an elk's rack, was crouched down, ready to attack. It seemed all that held it back were the flimsy silver chains tieing it's feet to the base. 

Here the corridor split in two directions. One was dark and foreboding, smelling oddly like a root cellar. Pale, flickering candle light made the right side seem inviting, as well as the familiar scent of bread and wine. He turned towards the light and saw a flash of winter ice blue that seemed approving somehow. The room it led to was lit softly by several white candles set into a twisted brass candelabra, which looked as if it were a vine growing from the center of the round table. The table itself was set with a surprising amount of food. Bread, meat, soup, fancy dishes he barely recalled from when he was rich, and warm red wine. It was set out on gold dishes with startling red rubies set into them. The dinnerware itself must have been worth a fortune of considerable size. 

Beginning to understand, he sat down at the table and ate all he wished, knowing it was meant for him. He was comfortably full and becoming sleepy when the door opposite the one he had entered swung open of it's own will, showing a long corridor filled with leering stone creatures and candles set in odd places. Several of the beasties were arranged about a door, pointing at it with whatever arms their sculptor had blessed them with. The merchant gently pushed it open. 

Revealed was an elaborate bed chamber running with blue silk. He hastily changed into a nightgown laying on the bed and collapsed into the soft cushions, asleep withing minutes.   
__

_Oil black feathers and eyes the color of winter ice flitted about the edges of his vision. Trees of transparent ice rose before and behind him, encircling him in a dangerous cage of spiked cold that would impale him on frozen branches without a thought to the matter. Outside the prison an old woman stood, long silvery hair falling down about her waist and thinning on top. She wore a simple peasant's dress and no shoes, though the crystal cold covering the ground must have been painful to unprotected skin. Something about her seemed familiar almost, like a phantom remembered vaugly from a dream long ago. The old woman held in her arms a small child, a perfect child. His hair fell in dark curls about his face, which was round and colored gaily as all children should be. The woman smiled, and the child reached it's round young arms into the cage....._   


When he awoke, the first thing he was aware of, oddly enough, was the old oaken wardrobe in the corner of the room, which loomed into the edges of his somewhat hazy vision. It may sound odd to be panicked by such an object, but its position and shape were enough to make him realize that he was not in his own room and not in his own bed. No small amount of panic washed over him until the memories of the days past flooded back into his mind. The merchant gave a sigh of relief and leaned his head back into the pillow. 

At length he rose slowly, stretching and yawning, having slept better than he did even at home. The dream had not been terribly unpleasant and it didn't trouble him, as he opened the wardrobe to find several suits of clothing that fitted him perfectly. He expected no less. After all, this place seemed to be enchanted, if not magical in origin itself. Why shouldn't clothing appear for him, like everything else? He dressed in what would be most practical for the journey ahead and pulled on his boots, which had been cleaned of the dirt of travel overnight. 

As he left, his mind noted with some concern that the gargoyles and statues were not in the same positions they had held when he arrived. Some seemed to have moved to a different room altogether. He dismissed it to magic, and sat down at the round table again for a fine breakfast and a little more than healthy dose of rich red wine. 

When that particular pleasure was over, he wandered a little reluctantly out to the garden where he had left his horse. To little surprise the animal had been well cared for. It had been groomed thoroughly, it's mane combed and lain almost artfully against it's neck. The worn saddle he had come with was replaced with a new and rather expensive one that still shined with oils from it's previous position as an animal's skin. The horse, a rather unspectacular mount by any means, stood with head cocked to regard a smallish black bird. The bird was perched on the back of a statue, a crouched leogriff with blank, vacant eyes. It seemed to be a raven or crow of some sort, to well feathered to be young and to small to be fully grown. Something must have stunted it. As he approached, both animals looked up from their silent communion and the bird hopped off, looking terribly much like any normal bird. The horse looked after it a moment, and resentfully went to it's owner. 

The merchant patted it's neck affectionately and put a foot in the stirrup, meaning to mount, when something caught his eye. Something soft and red, nestled in dark green leaves. A rose. If he couldn't bring his other daughters their gifts, at least he could bring Beauty her rose. He left the horse, who looked curiously after him, and knelt before the rosebush. He was somewhat startled to see a statue of a bat-winged baboon leaning down on the other side in a nearly identical position. The merchant pressed the stem between his two fingers, bent it once, twice, and snapped it off the bush. 

The reaction could not have been greater had he stabbed someone in the public square. The horse screamed and reared, eyes wide and terrified, bolting to the far side of the garden. The bird began to screech and it's oil black feathers slicked to it's sides. Above it all, the most horrible sound mortal ears can hope to hear, came the animal roar of something surely unholy, surely terrible. The scarred door leading out of the palace was thrown open by heavy hands. He screamed as something bounded out, hot and snarling and towering over him in only two leaps. 

Were all the fearsome creatures of the forest thrown together it could not have been so frightening. With some effort it could have resembled a man, seeming to be a biped choosing to walk on four. It was covered all over in tangled, matted fur of a lion's color, a horrible mane in disarray surrounding the snarling jaws and glinting black eyes. It's legs ended in massive paws, it's hands in tearing claws that could rend the flesh from him with little effort. Hot animal breath covered the merchant's face as the monster curled down slowly to his level. 

"Wretched creature! Ungrateful man!" the beast said thru growling fangs. "You are lost and helpless and I take you into my palace, give you shelter, feeding, clothing, and to repay this generosity you steal my roses?! Is this how men repay kindness? Is this how men show gratitude?!" 

Voice high with terror the merchant stuttered a reply. "I d-didn't mean to be ungrateful! Y-you see--" 

"Silence!" 

The merchant snapped his jaw so suddenly his teeth ached. The beast leaned down even closer, the tangles of his mane nearly touching the merchant's face. 

"Give me one good reason I should not kill you where you stand." 

"This rose was a gift! I u-used to be a merchant, but went poor when all our vessels--" 

"The rose, fool, the rose!" 

"When one ship we thought was lost came in, I asked all my daughters what gifts they wanted from the money. Two of them asked for expensive gifts, but Beauty, my third daughter, asked only for a rose, a simple rose! The cargo was taken by tax and wages so I couldn't by the girls what they wanted, but I could get Beauty her rose!" 

The beast pulled up a bit, his snarl lessening. 

"How am I to know this story is true? How am I to know these daughters of yours are real?" The beast shifted, eyes like onyx set in bramble watching him from the side, like an animal. "I will give you one chance to live. You may have three days. If, by the end of those three days you can convince one of your daughters to come suffer in your place, you bring her and you may go free. If not, you must return and accept your sentence!" 

The man pushed his tongue against the back of his teeth and swallowed. He couldn't ask one of his daughters to die for him. No decent, loving man could! Could he not use those days to say goodbye, then? But those three days...he couldn't possibly ride home and back in three days, even if his horse ran the whole way! Stuttering nervously, he said as much. 

"It will be remedied." the beast said with a dismissing wave of his hand. "Do you accept these conditions?" 

"Yes, I-I accept." 

The beast leaned back, standing fully on his legs at eight feet, if not taller. Despite his horrific appearance the act of standing properly made him slightly human, and this did nothing to comfort the poor merchant's fear. 

"Go back to your room. You'll find a trunk there. Fill it with whatever you like from the vaults and take it with you, a gift to your children, if such children exist. If they do not it will do you little good, as you will be dead in three days. Do not try to elude me. If you do not return I will find you, and your fate will be that much more unpleasant!" 

The merchant swallowed, nodded furiously, and scrambled out of the beast's way. 

-end chapter 1- 


	3. chapter 2

Beauty and the Beast   
by D.K. Archer   
Based off the Fairy Tale   
------------------------   
Chapter 2   
__

_I watched the confrontation from my perch in the mouth of a silently screaming gargoyle, and my hopes sink. He had been doing so well! The beast, after a fine evening of being kind in regards to another human being, was ready to kill his guest now for something so simple as a rose! I had thought he was finally beginning to understand, was finally becoming more human. But now...___

_A rose. To him they were the incarnation of beauty itself. He had always been obsessed with what was beautiful, especially inanimate beauty that did not flee in terror from his horrible appearance. Thus he ordered me to create statues, find flowers for the garden, rebuild this wretched home into a palace of his styled choosing. He saw the taking of a single flower a crime punishable by death.___

_The Beast has earned his title.___

_There once was a time he was called Little Prince. Long past, when he was a child, and the servants that had been sent with to care for him still held enough loyalty to their king to do as they were told. Soon they found the king did not care what became of his horrible little son, and began to ignore him. They strayed from his princely studies and showed him how to hunt and kill to feed himself, how to be as self sufficient as any animal can be expected to be. In this sudden abandonment he became poorly tempered, and those forced to endure him called him a beast. With this new development the servants hardly cared weather he lived or not, and left him here, alone. He had to be starved for human comfort.___

_The demand he made of the merchant surprised me. It had never occurred to me that the beast would want a human girl in the house. Or was he really so cruel as to kill her on arrival? I cringed at the possibilities that flitted thru my mind. This beast was, after all, at least twenty five years old now, and had no contact with any woman since his servants left him. Did he even understand the concept of what a human female was? I must admit, I hadn't thought much on the idea. I suppose you assume a man knows these things even when he has not been taught. So what could he have in mind for her?___

_I never quite understood what occurred in the mind of this beast. No, not a beast. I can't think of him that way if ever this dependency is to end. He was a man, just a poor and ill raised one. And that was largely my fault. He was my responsibility. If only I had not committed such a crime! I had done harm to an unborn child, injured an innocent life to punish it's parents. The boy had done no wrong, and the circumstances of his birth were not his choosing. Yet I had cursed him! I turned him into this animal monster, and for my crime I was executed. The boy, the Little Prince, was sent away to the royal retreat with a handful of servants to raise him. They didn't want anything to do with the child; they hated this monstrosity.___

_To this role I suddenly awoke, jarred from my death to the body of a common bird. My punishment, I suppose. I forced myself to relearn the magic I had mastered as a human, but I could only talk to the boy now, in words that were not words, only thoughts that could be heard. My powers were at his command.___

_And here I am now. The old witch that cursed a prince is now his servant. Fitting, no?___

_I watched the merchant leave to fill his box, and I obeyed the beast's command to swiften the horse. The animal had no qualms with the arrangement, as he was a good and devoted soul, and was happy to better serve his master. The instantly lost merchant fumbled his way to the storage vaults where any bauble I found no use for was placed. He quickly filled the box with jewels and fineries, and loaded it onto the horse.___

_"Don't forget your rose." the beast said coldly, standing with his arms crossed. The merchant nervously picked it from the ground where he had dropped it, and slid onto his horse. I opened the exterior gate for him and he seemed to vanish. Such was the speed of the animal!___

_The gate echoed shut. I flew from my hiding place in the gargoyle's mouth and landed on the upper tier of the fountain, letting the water splash over my claws and thinking in an absent way of the stream that ran by my old cottage. It had been cool and clear, and perhaps it was just the rainbow haze of memory but it seemed to be so much more so when the old king reigned, before taxes and this terrible...unpleasantness.___

__What will you do with the girl, when he brings her?_ I asked the beast, after much time had lapsed into silence.___

_"It is none of your concern." he growled. I held ground, not intimidated by this act.___

__It is my concern. Everything within these walls in my concern. Every act you commit is my concern. What will you do with her?____

_"She will stay. I won't harm her."___

__And if he does not bring her?____

_"He will die."_   


The hooves of the merchant's horse clattered over the worn grey stones of the cottage path. The sound reached the ears of the girl making the noon day meal in the warm kitchen. Beauty glanced out the curtainless window, and in an instant her face lit brightly as a crystal set in the stonework. She vanished from the window for but a moment and he saw her next bolting from the door, colorless skirt held up in her fists. Barely had he a foot down from his horse when she threw her arms around his neck and covered his cheeks with kisses. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, when he didn't respond. The merchant pressed the red rose into his daughter's hand and sighed heavily. "Papa? Has something happened?" 

The boys, from their scattered locations about the property, arrived with grins and embraces, and the two girls not long after. Concerned questions came in only moments, and they made his heart ache. 

"Allright, allright." he finally conceded. "Lets go inside, I'll tell you everything." 

That much he did. He told them of the cargo being taken away by taxes and the sailor's wages, of becoming lost, of the odd tunnel that led him to the gates of the beast's home. And finally, of his unforgivable crime of stealing a flower from the garden. 

"But what will happen?" Annabella asked. "What will he do to you when you return?" 

"I'm...I'm afraid he will kill me, my dear." 

"For a rose?" she squeaked. 

He nodded sadly. Alexandra began to cry, burying her face in her palms, and Annabella followed. 

"This is wrong, we won't allow it!" the eldest brother said, crossing his arms angrily. "He can't kill you for a rose! You won't go back there, father!" 

"He'll track me down if I don't, and then all of you are endangered." 

"Then let us go kill the beast!" the youngest said. "We can rally men from the village and storm his palace! He can hardly fight all of us off, can he?" 

"If it were only a beast, I could agree with you. But he possesses magic!" the merchant said sadly. "If you assaulted his home he could merely materialize boiling oils above your heads and scald you to death. I won't have any of you endangered." 

Beauty sighed softly, looking at the rose still held in her hand. 

"Terrible girl!" Annabella sobbed "your the cause of our father's death and you don't shed a single tear!" 

"It would be quite useless to do so. For he won't die." 

"Beauty, don't--" 

"He will not die because I will take his place." she continued. "The beast said he would accept one of us in exchange, did he not?" 

"No!" shouted the eldest son. "Please, father, let us kill the monster! The world would be better off without a creature such as that!" 

"You will do nothing of the sort. I gave him my word I would return, and I will be good to my promises. I only came back to say goodbye." 

"Then don't say it." Beauty replied, growing more firm in her resolve. 

"Beauty--" 

"No, listen to me, Papa. This beast you spoke of cannot be wholly evil. He sheltered you when you were lost, fed you, clothed you, for nothing in return. And even when you stole from him he sent you away with a trunk of jewels to keep your family after your death. He can't be half so horrible as all that." 

Her father chuckled, in spite of himself. "How like you to see the good in the creature. But Beauty, he is a monster! He can't possibly have good intentions for you!" 

"I have learned not to judge people by their appearance." 

"My dear, he is not simply ugly, he is an animal! You cannot judge an animal by the means you judge a man." 

"Could an animal talk? stand upright? value a rose for it's beauty? No. He must be a man, then, and no men are entirely evil." 

"This one is. No child of mine will go to their death for a rose!" 

Beauty looked down at the red bloom in her hand and stayed silent. Her fingers ran over the edges of the petals, and the only sounds were her sisters crying and a bird somewhere chirping. 

The middle son, who had been silent until now, put a hand on her shoulder. 

"Beauty, please." he said softly. "I know you'll find a way to go, your a stubborn kind of girl. But please reconsider. We need you, Beauty. Here. With us." 

"And you don't need Papa?" 

"Of course we need him. But your the one who keeps us all going, Beauty. If Father leaves, we'll need you more than ever. If you leave...there will be nothing left for us to do. Your our light, Beauty, we're nothing without you." 

Annabella, having always been the least attached to her siblings, took offense to this statement. She'd never liked Beauty much, ever since they were young girls and she was passed up often for attention, instead watching her youngest sister showered in love and affection. Jealousy had always been a driving force in her life. So, although it looked as though the argument was settled there, Annabella would not let it rest. She knew that on the third day Beauty would be there in her riding cloak begging to go in his place. The trick would be getting her father to accept. 

It really wasn't as difficult as she had anticipated. Over the next nights their father had been mulling over his impending fate, anxiety growing greater as the time brushed past him. Most men fear death as they love life, and this one was certainly no exception. He rotted in guilt as unwanted thoughts rose in his mind. Perhaps the beast wouldn't kill Beauty? Yes, yes, perhaps he really wasn't wholly evil, perhaps she would be safe and well at his home. So shouldn't he send her instead? Or perhaps he would kill her, devour her bleeding corpse like so much meat and leave her to rot on the garden path. He didn't know! He didn't understand the creature that had cared for him, didn't have an idea what intentions clung to his massive skull's interior. What would he do??? 

His daughter entered his room to find him pacing, though the night was late and his candle burned down to little more than a pool of wax around the flame. 

"Annabella? What are you doing up at this hour?" he asked, startled by her appearance. 

"I came to talk. About Beauty." 

"I don't want to talk now." he said, waving his hand unhappily. 

"I'm sorry. But this is your last night at home. Tomorrow morning you'll go back to the monster." 

"You think I haven't been fretting over that all night? You need to remind me now?" the merchant shouted, bringing himself to within inches of his daughter. Her eyes flickered and he stepped back, running a hand through his slowly thinning hair. Annabella stood straighter and fingered her skirt; she would not be put off so easily. 

"You know Beauty will want to go with you. She is very stubborn once she puts her mind to something, and she wouldn't think twice of offering herself to save you, or any one of us." 

"She is a good girl." he said, almost mournfully. 

"That she is. And you know she will be standing in the stable with her riding cloak in the morning, ready to leave. She may even take the horse without you. She won't let you die without trying at least." 

The merchant collapsed into the edge of his bed, head forward in his hands. 

"Stealing the horse would be useless. She doesn't know the way." 

"But the horse does." the girl said, sitting next to him. "Father, she will find a way to go. Why not let her?" 

"No." 

"She'll be perfectly allright, father. You know Beauty. She can charm her way out of any situation. There is no one, man or beast, who could bear to harm our little Beauty. Remember when she was only five, playing out near the forest that stood behind our home? Remember the wolf that came out of the trees? Any other child would have been torn to pieces, but Beauty, no, Beauty tamed the monster. When we found her she was curled up in it's paws, stroking it's shaggy neck. The wolf tried to follow her around for days. Do you remember?" 

"Yes." he said, with a slight chuckle. "She had that wolf tamer than a lap dog. It lay at her feet and begged for table scraps." 

"Beauty did what no one else could have done." Annabella said, nodding. "And she was only five. Think of what she could do now. If the child can tame a wolf, why can't the woman tame a beast?" 

"It is no ordinary beast..." 

"And she is no ordinary girl." 

He watched Annabella's face for answers, but found only sincerity there. He sighed and his shoulders fell. 

"I'll think on it, Annabella. I'll think on it." 

She stood to leave, and kissed his forehead sweetly. 

"Goodnight, father." 

"Goodnight, Annabella." 

The door whispered shut behind her. With a heavy sigh the merchant's shoulders dropped. A long moment, two, he fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes, knowing he would never sleep. 

The melted candle met the end of it's wick, flickered, and the pale flame drew into itself in death.   


_Papa,_   
_As I write this, the sun has climbed the horizon and bathed the world in reddish gold. This truly is a beautiful country, and our little home is so peaceful here. Looking out over the land I know that this is where you deserve to be, and this is where you should live out your days. I could not bear it to know you had died for my sake. I've taken the horse and hope you can forgive me.___

_All my love, to you and my family,_   
_Beauty_   
__ __

Thru the small four panel window in the merchant's bedroom, dawn's light poured thru a rich, reddish gold, a color to take comfort in, and slowly faded to a pale sun as it crept down the wall. He stared at it, but he did not see it. His mind had turned and labored and argued all night long. The words of Annabella bit at his mind from one side, the heavy protectiveness of a father from the other. Whether or not to send Beauty to the monster? 

As it turned out in the end, when the patch of sun had come to rest like a fat yellow cat on his bedspread, Annabella's words were crushed rather harshly by his instinct to protect. A thin sweat stood on his forehead and he brushed it away with the sleeve of his unchanged shirt. He felt oddly calm now. He had decided to die, and yet it was almost supernatural the feeling that held to him. Was this what it meant to be a father? To be willing to die for your children? Yes, he supposed it was. It wasn't a terrible feeling by any mark, almost like he had matured somehow. 

Resisting the urge to hum to himself, he burrowed thru his clothing chest and found what he would wear to his death. One should die in style if one must die at all. He adjusted his cuffs and smoothed his thinning hair over his skull. Perfect. 

As he left his room, he heard sobbing coming from the kitchen. One of the girls. He sighed and walked slowly, not entirely sure how to face his children. As he entered, all of them were present. The boys were leaning against the wall looking ill with grief, and Alexandra was perched on the wooden stool crying. Annabella's face was carefully blank. The faces of the boys lifted to him, and he could see this was not over his imminent departure. 

"Where's Beauty?" he said, suddenly realizing she was not present. Alexandra let out a wail and turned her face into Annabella's skirt. The eldest boy sighed in a sort of empty way and his arm extended, shaking a bit. In his trembling fingers was a thin white sheet of paper with ink writings on it. The merchant took it, and felt ill as he recognized the careful hand of Beauty. 

The words went thru his mind and meant nothing. He read it again, a third time, the beginning of a fourth when his jaw dropped involuntarily, the paper flitted to the ground. His legs refused to hold him and he fell in a great silent heap on the boards of the floor, eyes unblinking, a cut marionette. 

-end chapter 2- 


	4. chapter 3

Beauty and the Beast   
by D.K. Archer   
Based off the Fairy Tale   
------------------------   
Chapter 3 

The bird was staring at her. It's eyes, wide spheres of a startling color, marked with a deep covered abyss, looking out from among the dripping candles and twisted metal that rose from the center of the table. This bird, whatever it was, had led her into the house and to this room. More food was laid out than any one person could possibly eat. Beauty was to frightened to even try to do so, but this trained bird perched in the candelabra gave her the distinct impression she didn't have a choice. When she stood to move from the room the bird squawked and put it's wings out in a most threatening manner. Beauty feared the thing would set itself on fire among all those candles when it spread it's wings, and so was obliged to stay. She sipped nervously at a goblet of cold white wine but couldn't force herself to touch the meal. 

After what felt like an impossible amount of time had passed she found herself quite bored. Her fear had dimmed when she realized nothing was going to happen immediately, and slowly disappeared with such passage of time. She acknowledged that she was hungry, having not eaten before stealing away from her cottage, and gingerly picked up some bread that was, oddly enough, still warm. Beauty pulled a small piece off and set it on her tongue. It was not, as she had expected, heavy and thick as what she made was. It was light, well milled, and delicious. She saw what looked oddly like approval on the face of the bird, though it gave no expression, only looked calmly back at her from among the candle flames. 

Only when she had eaten her fill did the door to the room swing open behind her. It was not the door she had entered by. The girl cautiously crept out into the passage, the wax drooling gargoyles staring at her with rounded stone eyes as she passed. In nervous habit she raised her hand to her collar, fingers brushing over the greyish material she'd sewn only two months ago into this dress. Her light footsteps echoed loudly against the stones. For a moment, she froze, listening hard. Despite the hard sound the footsteps stopped also, reassuring her they were hers. She gave a quick nervous sigh and hurried along the passage. 

What would happen now? She wasn't even quite sure where she was going, much less what would happen once she got there. A dry caw jolted her and she spun to stare at another bird....no, it was the same one. How had she not seen it follow? It perched on the broad nostrils of a growling stone creature that stood upon a door frame. The door itself had many hard scratches and dents in it. It unlatched of it's own will and Beauty placed a nervous hand on it, pushing lightly, and it swung open for her. Her other hand flew to her mouth in a silent gasp. 

This room, though obviously once intended for human occupation, had been turned into the very essence of an animal den. The oaken wardrobe was toppled and ripped open at the back, displaying a tangled mess of animal remains. All cloth in the room had been knotted up on the bed, even wall hangings and curtains, to form a great nest, in the middle of which was a softly snoring animal who's matted tail twitched ever so slightly in a dream. 

Beauty stepped back from the door, horror evident on her face. The bird swooped past her into the room and suddenly faltered in flight, barely landing on the edge of the bed. It's jaw dropped in a mimicry of horror and it proceeded to jump onto the beast's shoulders and pound sharply on it's forehead, heavy beak drawing flecks of blood. The animal snorted and jumped, paws swinging to it's head, barely missing the bird. No, not paws. They sported two opposable thumbs, making them quite decidedly hands. It's black eyes opened among the tangle of it's mane and it's lips pulled back in a menacing growl. Beauty gave a strangled gasp of fear. 

The beast startled again at the sound, and she realized the growl had not been directed at her. It's black eyes fell upon her, staring in positive horror from the doorway, pale hand about her throat. The growl died in it's throat and it's eyes widened, jaw slowly dropping, revealing more then plentiful sharp pointed fangs. The bird flapped it's wings angrily but the beast payed no heed. In frustration the bird hopped into his mane and began to bite quite violently at the half hidden ears. 

Beauty forced herself to turn and run, the sounds of flapping wings, struggle, and shouting that sounded disturbingly human echoing behind her. She ran thru the dining room, down the outer hallway, and out thru the heavy doors to the bright and blessedly clear garden. The horse stared at her with it's liquid brown eyes and she stumbled towards it, aware of the pounding lunges now echoing in the passage behind the door. The scarred wood burst open and the beast was instantly in front of her, paws skittering on the stone path and mouth drawn. Before she could scream the bird had flown from the closing doors and landed between them, hissing menacingly and spreading it's wings at the beast. The animal wavered, harrumphed, and sat down hard on the stone. 

"Why did you run?" It grumbled, looking up at her. 

Beauty shook harder at hearing the animal speak. Her father had been right. This wasn't a man in the form of a monster, it was purely animal, a beast! It would surely kill her! 

"I said, why did you run?" 

It leaned forward a bit, and the girl noticed two small trickles of blood, one running over his brow from the peck the bird had given him, the other dripping from a nipped ear. She took a deep breath and tried to appear calmer, though it did little good. 

"You frightened me." she said, voice shaking. 

"Are you the merchant's daughter?" 

"Yes." 

It growled softly under it's breath, and raised one hand to brush away the blood droplet gathering on his eyebrow, gaze never leaving her. 

"Is the merchant here?" he asked, though it didn't seem as if he were talking to her. She answered anyway, and he stared with fascination at her open lips. A sharp snip from the bird's beak brought him back to attention, blinking hard. 

"Are you here of your own free will, or did he force you to come?" he asked in an odd tone. 

"My father didn't force me. I wanted to take his place." 

He grunted asset, and turned away as if losing interest. "Follow the bird to your room. The bird will show you what to do." 

"Your not going to kill me?" she said, sounding hopeful. 

"Not unless you want me to." 

He promptly wandered off, sauntering like a lion and tail twitching. The doors to the house swung open and the bird hopped inside, obliging Beauty to follow.   
__

_The girl has not been here three hours, and he has already confirmed all that her father must have told her. After leading the girl to the room I shut the door firmly and flew back out to the garden. The beast was pacing the stones, tail swinging furiously. I lighted on the back of a granite puma and watched.___

__So are you quite happy with yourself? She's terrified of you.____

_He only snarled, and paced harder.___

__I told you what to do, you know. I told you last night before I went about preparing her room. I said to right your chambers and take a bath, stand upright and be a gentleman. You didn't listen to a word of it!____

_"I was tired." he grumbled.___

__Lazy oaf! I knew I should have checked on you before she arrived.____

_"Oh, shut up! Do you really think attacking me while she was standing right there in the doorway helped any?"___

__I needed to wake you up! Besides, with your thick skull I doubt it made a dent!____

_He snarled, but said nothing.___

__If your going to demand the girl come here, you could at least be a decent host to her. She'll probably be cowering in her room all day now. As her host it is your responsibility make sure she is comfortable and happy.____

_"Will you JUST SHUT UP!?" he growled, hopping up onto the stone platform of the next garden tier. "This was a mistake, all of it. I should never have given the merchant a choice. I should have killed him there!"___

__No! Of all the terrible things you are I will not let you be a murderer. Now you either treat the girl kindly and with respect or I'll vanish away and you won't see me ever again!"___

_The beast froze, and his face took on an entirely child-like expression. In a swift movement he jumped from the tier and crouched at the foot of the granite puma, nearly prostrating himself, looking every bit like a kicked pup. I regretted my words instantly. He looked like a little child who's found out he's to be abandoned, and I realized in a moment that was what he was. Despite his age and fearsome appearance he had never received the tempering that made some boys into men.___

_"I'll be good! Don't leave me, please?"___

__You'll do everything I say?_ I asked, taking advantage of what was already done.___

_He put his hands on the forelegs of the puma, bringing his horrible face up that much closer to me. "Everything!"___

__All right then. Follow me, we have a lot of work to do.__   


**Taken from the Golden Journal, first entry.**__

_This is a terrible, terrible place! The walls watch you as you move, the house reroutes itself at will, and the gargoyles move about like living animals! Never when your watching, though. Some of them are chained to their bases, and I know why now. But worst of all is the beast! When papa told me about this horrible monster I should have listened, I should have believed him! I wanted to save him....and that I don't regret. But I'm still frightened. Even though he speaks like a man this thing is hardly a man at all. He walks like a beast on all four limbs, he has a long tail that is impeded by it's own tangles, and such a manner! I saw him sleeping, when the trained bird led me to his room. It was like a rat in it's burrow. He even had the scraps of carrion I'm sure he must feed from laid out in his destroyed wardrobe! Horrible monster!___

_But I think he is not alone here.___

_The bird led me to my room, which is furnished even more fantastically than the one I had in our old home, before papa lost his money. Everything is made of dark wood and red cloth, with roses carved and embroidered into everything. The bed is large with a scene from a rose garden carved in the headboard of two ladies talking on the edge of a small fountain. The work is more detailed than anything I have ever seen. I wonder if the beast had kidnapped some poor artisan to do this work for me? The canopy is of red silk with small red roses on the curtain. There is a bookshelf quite nearly full, a chair by the window with a guitar in it, and here a writing desk, where I now sit. At the desk is a ream of paper, a pen and inkwell, and this journal with a golden cover. But what leads me to believe the beast is not alone is what is written on the first page. A poem, written in an elegant hand.___

_Come, young lady, dry your tears,_   
_there is no need for sighs or fears._   
_Command as freely as you may,_   
_for you command, and I obey.___

_With this is a single black feather. I think the beast could not have written it, so it must surely be someone else in this house!___

_I'll wait till the monster sleeps again, and search them out._

Beauty ate dinner alone that evening, lacking even the bird for company. She didn't like this room alone. It seemed that the stonework watched her quite intently, round stone bodies moving freely out the corner of her eye but instantly back in place when she turned to look at them. Only when she was finished eating, and took a last sip of the cold white wine, the door behind her swung open and the oil black body of the bird swooped in to alight gracefully on the candelabra. The candle flames flickered, and a new shape rose in the doorway. Beauty's hand flew to her throat immediately. 

The beast hardly looked like the same creature, and if it wasn't for the two black eyes watching her she would never have recognized him as such. Washed and combed the color of his fur was lighter and more even, and laid neatly against his body. The long tail was elegant and made like the tails of the unicorns in the tapestries she'd seen as a little girl. Perhaps the best change was clothing. The beast, upright now instead of hunched over as an animal, wore brown long-trousers and a white linen shirt with a neck ruff and a red vest. His mane was held neatly back by a black ribbon at the base of his neck. 

He glanced nervously at the bird and stepped towards Beauty rather timidly. He was so greatly changed from the creature that had chased her in the garden the girl wasn't quite sure what to think. 

"Good evening, mademoiselle." he grumbled, looking as though he felt the perfect fool. "May I..err......." he looked at the bird as if for help, then blurted "May I have the pleasure of your company this evening?" 

"A-allright." 

He held out one massive clawed paw, and the girl stared at it a moment, unsure. Swallowing hard, she slid her own small hand into his, and let him lead her from the room.   


**Taken from the Golden Journal**

_A day has passed, and I have no more understanding of this place than when I first arrived. The beast seems to be a perfect gentleman, now! I get the distinct impression he would rather not be. The bird seems to keep him in check. Every time his temper loosened, whenever he was wordless, the bird snapped it's beak against something to get his attention, they shared a moment of silent communion, and he was allright again.___

_The magic he can work is truly extrodinary. A disused harp put forth beautiful music at a gesture of his hand this evening, and before bed, one of the gargoyle's moved in plain sight. It held a rose tight in it's jaw and leapt from it's stone base to lay it gently at my feet. When I looked up the beast was gone. The bird, however, looks to have decided to stay with me. It has been perched on the curtain rail for some time now, watching me write. I do hope it stays! I've always liked animals, and having a pet would make me feel much more at home.___

_It's getting late. Sometime soon the beast will be asleep. Then, I will search out any others in this place. Though I am sincerely beginning to doubt if any exist. If the beast can make stone move, a harp play, and a horse swifter than the wind, perhaps he could summon a poem from the air?_

_The girl is in bed now._ the bird reported, hopping to the stone skull of a gargoyle protruding from the wall. The beast grunted and sat down on the edge of the bed. _Well?_ 

"Well what?" he grumbled, pulling at the black hair ribbon. 

_Well what do you think? You've spent the entire evening in the presence of a beautiful lady. Surely you must have something running thru your mind._ 

"Yes. And that something is, 'I'm tired'. Go away, I want to sleep." 

Her mood faltered, and the bird puffed indignantly. _Go away? Your telling me to go away? Why? What right have you?_ 

"I did what you said! Don't you think that entitles me to a little...privacy...when I want it?" 

_No._ 

The beast growled, baring his pointed fangs, but the bird was unmoved. 

_I want to know what your thinking. I want to know your plans for the girl._ 

"Nothing you need to worry about. Now goodnight." 

He curled into the nest of fabric and pretended to be asleep. 

_Would you at least have the decency to take off your clothes? You'll get them all filthy and wrinkled._ 

He kicked the sheets, but made no other reply. 

_Oh fine. I'll just have to make new ones in the morning, you brat. And good luck sleeping on an empty stomach. I know you haven't eaten today._ 

The bird swooped down thru the open door and it snapped shut behind her. The beast opened his eyes to the darkness, to the thin starlight bleeding in thru the window. Something about that last comment wasn't right. The bird usually had no concern for those matters whatsoever, so why would she comment on them now? Her tone led him to think something a bit more cryptic was meant. But then, she knew he wasn't one for puzzles. 

Either way, she was right. He hadn't eaten that day, and her acknowledgment of it brought it acutely into his consciousness. He fingered the filthy cloth beneath him and wondered what creatures were out this late at night. Owls? Could he catch an owl? Rats? That was appalling, even for him. Perhaps he could search out a sleeping deer and kill it before it made too much noise. With a sigh he uncurled himself and climbed from the bed on all fours. The linen shirt pulled uncomfortably at his throat while he was down in this manner. He quickly shed the shirt and vest and crept out the door, thru the halls and the garden, and out to the forest beyond the house. 

Meanwhile, Beauty put her head from the carved door to her bedroom. The hallway was empty, save rows of grinning gargoyles staring with blank eyes directly at her. She let the door close quietly. Absently she noted that the color of the candles held in their mouths had changed. Now, instead of thick white wax dripping from their jaws the candles were red, like they all dripped blood. The heads seemed to follow as she passed, though no matter how quickly she turned, they were all in their original positions when her eyes met them. 

The girl pulled doors randomly. A disturbing pattern began to appear, as she began down a third hallway. The first two rooms on the right were always identical unused bedrooms. The first two on the left were studies with shelves of crumbling books. At the end were storage and an empty room. This time, as she left the hall, she left one door ajar, wondering if her terrible suspicion might be true. As she turned the next corner the same door stood partially open in the next hall! She swallowed, and tried another test. She pulled a ribbon from her hair and dangled it on extended arm around the next corner. At the same time, she looked back behind her at the turn she had just come thru. There, down the hall, was her own arm waving the hair ribbon! She craned her neck around the corner, and was met with the vision of her own body at the next turn, looking around the corner. She shrieked and scampered back down the hallway, which kindly deposited her at the door of her own room. She swung it open, flung herself onto the bed, and buried her head in a pillow, trembling terribly.   


Three hours later, the beast came sauntering back, the partial limb of a deer held tightly in his jaw. Blood had dried and caked onto his hands, his mouth, and dripped down onto his chest and abdomen. His mane was smeared red and he swung his tail proudly, ignoring the twigs caught in the longer fur of it. His black eyes were half closed with contentment. Having fed, his mind was sluggish and comfortable, his body demanding persistently a nap or at the least a long doze. Who was he to deny it? 

As he passed the open door to Beauty's room, he froze. There, beyond the frame, the girl lie sleeping, still in her full clothing and on top of the covers. He let the limb drop from his jaw, ignoring the wet slap it made against the stone, and put his head into the room cautiously. What was this thing, really? What was this 'girl'? He hadn't seen one before she came, at least, not that he remembered well. But half remembered scenes and the persistent bird had given him enough knowledge to know women were somehow different than men. How, he wasn't sure. At first, he had thought it must be that they wore dresses instead of trousers, but he also remembered they were smaller, and shaped differently. This girl certainly was. Had he been thinking clearly he might have turned and gone right to bed, but the kill had clouded his thoughts and base curiosity pulled him into the room. 

At first, he merely paced circles about her bed, watching her calmed in sleep. Was she dreaming? Could humans dream? Dark strands of hair had fallen into her eyes and he felt an odd urge to brush them out. She seemed attractive somehow. More so than any other human he had met. When the merchant had stayed the night he had felt absolutely no desire to be anywhere near him, and yet his daughter held some greater appeal, some odd pulling. As she lay silent and asleep he suddenly wondered what would happen if he touched her. Would she wake up and start shouting? The bird always made a horrible racket when he woke her, and a human girl might be the same way. Or would she wake up at all? He pushed his face close to hers and his blood crusted nostrils flared as he stood crouched there. The scent of her was even attractive, not entirely unlike that of prey animals. 

Her eyes squinted in sleep and he jerked back, startled. Her eyebrows furled together and her mouth opened a bit as she rolled over. 

"Nnn...annabella...i already did the ...laundry....." 

The beast turned tail and ran from the room, barely remembering to snatch up the deer leg as he went.   


-end chapter 3- 


	5. chapter 4

Beauty and the Beast   
by D.K. Archer   
Based off the Fairy Tale   
------------------------   
Chapter 4 

Days passed quietly for the most part. Each morning Beauty awoke to the vision of to the bird perched on her headboard, staring down at her with to the cold blue eyes she'd become accustomed to. She dressed, ate, and went out to the garden to find company with her fathers brown horse, for whom a small self serving stable had appeared in to the corner of to the garden. Books kept her entertained long portions of to the day as she read under to the never changing sun, often curled against to the side of a particular stone creature which resembled a mix of a lion and unicorn, with an oddly human head from which three spiral horns rose in a sort of crown with it's two tall ears in to the middle. If she stayed there long enough it curled slightly and to the head almost invariably moved to look at to the illuminated pages over her shoulder. Loneliness was eased as she read long passages aloud, noting that to the bird listened quite intently from it's position at her feet. To the stone statues were a fine enough audience. She wasn't to the least bit surprised when she looked up to see several still leaned to hear, whatever ears they had perked at attention. 

Truly, there were far worse places she could be. To the lack of human companionship began to grate on her slowly as two weeks passed, though. To the beast was quite attentive to her needs, when she saw him, and she was astonished by his utter lack of knowledge about to the world in whole. He met with her every evening after dinner. Talking to someone who could talk back was a comfort, but normal subjects of conversation could not be touched upon. When they were he simply stared blankly at her and twitched his long whiskers. Matters of government, daily life, and anything occurring beyond these walls were a complete mystery to him. 

At to the end of two weeks she found herself utterly miserable for to the want of her family. Her grand gesture of sacrifice, and willing to die for her father, meant nothing now that no harm had come to her. She missed her family and wanted to return to them. Only one obstacle prevented her. To the beast. 

After two weeks and two days she gained to the resolve to ask him. She waited until he had come to her after dinner, and spoke before her mind could convince her otherwise. 

"What?" he said, an odd twitching of his right whiskers. 

She repeated "I want to go home." 

He was silent. Black eyes were unreadable as he tilted his head forward a bit, hiding his face in to the shadow of his mane. 

"You wish to leave me. And return to your sisters, and to the merchant." 

"Yes." 

A long moment passed before he raised his head again, and her heart skipped at to the sight of pure misery. She was, after all, a kind girl, and during these weeks had grown a certain fondness of to the poor creature who stayed here so alone. 

"H-have I done something wrong?" 

"No!" she said quickly, reassuring him "No, it's nothing you've done! I just...miss them." 

He swallowed, nodded, and gave an short sigh that startled her. His face twisted and he looked quickly around to the room for to the bird who was, oddly, absent. There was no one to help him decide. His instinct was to keep her here, under lock and key if necessary, but something that was hardly more than a tickling in to the back of his mind told him to let her go. 

But...what would happen then? 

To the girl was looking at him with her wide dark eyes pleading, and he realized quite suddenly he couldn't bear to make her unhappy if he could help it. Even if it meant letting her abandon him, like all to the other people that had stayed with him. His mind brought up nagging images of to the servants all those years ago, of climbing to the top of to the gate and watching thru tears as to the last one rode of on a speckled horse without so much as a 'goodbye', or 'remember to wash behind your ears'. To the servants had never come back. 

He also remembered hiding in to the bushes listening to her read the long epic poems that to the bird had set in her library. He hadn't heard poetry in a long time, having never learned to read and having no one willing to read to him. Her voice had lifted in perfect words that metered and held him transfixed for hours. He remembered watching her loving ministrations to the brown horse, combing back thru it's mane, patting it's side affectionately, humming a soft tune to it's ear. Each little action had produced a curious lightness in his chest, though he could feel every movement of his heart quite well. He remembered the long, impatient waits until evening, grooming hours early (often with help from to the bird) and pacing from one side of to the room to the other until to the bird fetched him to meet her. 

Nothing had made him feel quite this way before. Even the loveliness of his treasured flowers paled while she was near. He had never told the bird anything of this, no matter how she prodded. Largely because he thought she would taunt him or shout at him. Something else, too. He couldn't quite place it. 

The world spun around him without moving, and with a great silent breath his shoulders slumped down as if the weight of worlds had been placed upon them He had reached his decision. 

"Go. Go back home to your father. And your sisters. And your brothers." He turned his back, staring at the floor. "I release you. Live your life." 

Beauty's face split in a grin and she ran forward to embrace him, but he jolted as if her hands were made of fire and spun to face her, chest heaving. She shrank back, frightened, as he apparently tried to control his fury, but the way he clenched and unclenched his hands and the liquid quality of his eyes made her think perhaps it was from a different effort. Without warning he ran from the room on all fours, and was gone before Beauty could catch him.   


_I returned to the house in a rather good mood, having spent the last half hour altering the horse's stable into a more permenant structure. I'd added several gargoyle's to watch over the addition and alert me to any trouble. I expected to find the girl and the beast still conversing somewhere in the house, since it had hardly been any time at all, but upon entering the beast's room I found him prostrate on the bed, shoulders shaking and short rasping sounds issuing from him. The significance of this all struck me suddenly as I realized...he was crying!___

__What? What's this?____

_He turned his head slightly and looked at me with red rimmed eyes, fur around them wet and glistening in the candle light. I narrowed my own as thoughts came to me.___

__Have you done something?! Have you hurt the girl?! Well, answer me!____

_"I l-let her g-go." he whispered harshly, closing his eyes tight.___

__You what? What do you mean, you let her go?____

_"I told her s-she could go home. She m-missed her f-family."___

_I flared my feathers angrily and huffed. How was he to learn kindness and love if there was no one here to learn it from? I'd be stuck here in this body forever, forever bound to this thing I cursed. The harshness of my own thought startled me, as it often did. But then I again wondered, and my feathers slicked to my sides.___

__Wait...if you let her go back freely, why are you crying? Isn't this what you want?____

_The beast sobbed and curled slightly, wrapping his arms tight around the pillow.___

__Why...are...you...crying?_ I persisted, leaning forward as far as I could without falling from my perch.___

_"Because I...'cause I...."___

__Say it.____

_"Because I love her!"___

_He curled into a tight ball and sobbed even harder. My own heart jumped in place and my brain filled with a wonderful rush of adrenaline. Those were exactly the words I had needed to hear. Now I could be freed!___

_But....no. The exact phrasing of the spell had been 'learns the powers of kindness and love'. I still needed the girl. Had she left yet? Panic overtook me when I realized she might allready be gone. If that was so, there was nothing I could do. My powers extended a little over a hundred meters past these walls, another odd bit of this arrangement. On a horse that swift she could cover a hundred meters in little more than a second. If she had allready left, there was no hope.___

__Stay here!_ I ordered, figuring he wouldn't move in his state anyway. I flung open all doors and whipped thru the building at full speed, out into the garden, just in time to see the gate move the last bit in closing.___

__Is the horse there?_ I demanded of the gargoyles I had set in the stable. One of their stone faces appeared at the entrance.___

_No. The girl took it just a moment ago. We thought she had permission.>___

__No! Damn it!____

_I landed in the top of the gate and stared in absolute horror that she was allready beyond sight, leaving only a trail of running hoofprints and a mirror of shattered hope behind her._   
  


Dark shaped scuttled thru the underbrush, making the girl twist in her saddle and stare into the darkness. Something wasn't right. The horse had stopped in some stretch of forest after hardly beginning; they couldn't be more than three miles out. It was, however, quite dark, and quite unfamiliar. She had the suspiciouse feeling the horse was lost. 

She felt...bad. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, not at all. After the first few days the beast had become quite nice, very considerate, and his reaction to her leaving was terrible. She had wanted to chase after him but thought it might only make it worse, so she left without goodbyes. Why did it hurt to see him so upset? It was a feeling she dared not analyze to closely, even now. Besides, who ever said this was the last she must see of him? She could always come visit! 

The bushes rustled again, and she whimpered fearfully, holding the reign so tight her hands had turned white and her fingernails had begun to dig into her palm. The horse looked uneasy as well, looking from side to side and nickering now and then. Ahead, a twig snapped, and something large, stocky, and growling stepped out into the path....   


_She's gone._ the bird moaned. _She's long gone._ 

The beast gave little reply. While she had been gone he had composed himself to some extent, and now sat with his back against the headboard, arms draped over his knees and head hanging down. His eyes were still rimmed red but tears no longer flowed from them. 

_She was the last chance, you know. The last chance. We were so close!_ 

"Close to what?" he sniffed. "What are you talking about?" 

_Close to freedom!_ she sighed and her wings drooped down, brushing the stone ledge she sat on. 

The beast didn't understand. At any other time he may have questioned, but he didn't feel like it now. All he felt like was seeing Beauty, here, now. But that couldn't happen. Unless... 

"Do you think you could work magic for me? Make something so I could see her?" 

_Like a drawing?_ 

"Like...like a portal, or something. So I could see what she was doing at any time, if I only looked at it?" 

What harm could that do? The bird sighed and glanced about the room for an idea. Her eye rested on a small cracked mirror that had once been set in the dresser. It lifted into the air and ran like liquid into a larger shape, complete and round, with a handle. The surface rippled and it came to rest on the bed. The beast picked it up and looked into it, but saw only his own reflection. 

_Ask it to show you Beauty._ she instructed wearily. 

He did so. The surface changed, and after a moment his jaw dropped, and his eyes went wide. He dropped the mirror onto the mattress and scrambled from the room, an obviouse destination in mind. 

_Wait, where are you going?!_ 

The bird hopped to the matress and looked into the mirror. The girl sat atop her horse, which was not running, while several shaggy shapes surrounded them both. The shaped had mouths filled with yellowed teeth and ragged grey coats. Wolves! 

She swooped out the door after him. 

_Wait for me!_   


They were just standing there! Five massive wolves, larger than any she had ever seen, and far larger than the one she had known as a child, had circled them roughly, blocking the path in both directions and holding the forest to the left and right. They neither advanced nor retreated, only paced to the sides, growling. The horse danced nervously and shreiked as this standoff continued. 

Quite suddenly, a wolf on the right jumped forward and snapped it's teeth. The horse screamed and reared, throwing Beauty to the ground painfully and bolting past the wolf ahead of them. At once three wolves lunged and the girl let out a horrible scream, throwing up her arms and kicking madly. She hit one wolf in the ribs but another grabbed her forearm, gnashing down and drawing blood. Her hair tried to cover her eyes as she flailed, impairing her vision. Another caught hold of her left ankle and ripped. A third, teeth glistening horribly in the dark, leapt at her throat, and time seemed to slow as that open jaw decended on her, animal eyes glowing. Only inches fom her throat something slammed into it, sending it flying off into the trees. A familiar snarling figure in a red vest sent the other two sprawling in the dirt, and they scattered to regroup. 

The beast, panting hard and hands bleeding from running on them crouched protectivly beside her, tail whipping. She tried to scramble up but the action brought a counter action from the wolves. 

It all became a blur. Grey fur, tan, claws, fangs, yelps, snarls, and an abundance of red from the result of all this. Beauty backed to a tree, limping on her torn leg, tears streaming down her cheeks. A wolf yipped and strangled as it's throat was torn open and it slumped down dead. Another with a mouth full of bloody fur backed from the scuffle and lunged, only to be swung violently against the trunk of a tree. At length, four mangled wolves lay in unnatural positions on the path. The beast gasped air and sat down heavily among them, eyes glazed, clothing shredded, doused in red. Beauty sobbed and hurried to him, falling to her knees at his side. The bird had arrived sometime during the fight and now came to stand by him, though Beauty gave no notice. 

"Beast! Beast, please, say something!" 

He only gurgled in response, and blood bubbled up between his lips. The beast collapsed backwards, still staring into space, unnoticing. The girl put hands on both sides of his head and saw the blood dripping onto his shirt front was not entirely the wolves, but poured from a rip in his throat that pulled interior structures out to dangle over the skin. He twitched and his hands tightened into claws..... 

.......and time slowly ground to a halt.   
...   
..   
..   
.   
child, can you hear me?

I raised my head, startled by a sudden feeling of peace offering to overtake me. I ignored it. He was....he was lying there, dying! Dying! Oh gods.....Dying for a girl he had fallen in love with. 

Dying.... 

child, do not worry. all is not as horrible as it seems. do you know what has passed? the boy your raised has sacrificed himself for love. the boy you were bound to by spell....

__What does it matter now?_ _I said bitterly, wishing I could weep. __He's dead. Don't you understand that, Isthial?! He's dead!____

i understand more than it would seem. despite your actions you love the boy as your son, that i understand, better than you, perhaps. though you treated him cruelly more often than enough...it is why i never granted you children when you were alive. but the rules by which you served are broken. you are free.

The body I had inhabited these years seemed to dissolve, the feathers and skin and beak all vanishing quickly, leaving me rising like steam from a kettle, rising towards the sky. I twisted to see the frozen scene below me, the girl grasping the bloody boy who had killed for her.__

__No! It can't end this way! You can't just let him die! You have to save him!____

and what would you do to save him?

__Anything! Anything!__

There was a long silence, and I continued to drift upward. The world below slowly surrounded with white fog until I could barely see them anymore. No longer confined to the physical abilities of a bird I wept, I wept earnestly for the first time in longer than my memory, the invisible tears cold like rain. 

child, it will not end this way. by your own spell he has fulfilled, he has earned his right to humanity. he has earned another chance. and so have you.

__I don't understand__

you must make a choice now. he could be human from the beginning. you could have never cast your spell, he could be born a prince and now be king. you would have never been executed and died many years ago, alone. the girl would have stayed with her father all the days until he died, when she would have lived alone, and eventually followed him. no one would remember any of this had happened, because it never did. you may also take the second choice. i can make him human, here and now. repair the damage done to his body and let him rise.

__What will happen to them then?__

that is a future that has not yet been written.

The decision was mine. But truley, there was no decision at all. 

__Make him human, here and now. Let them live and see what tomorrow brings.__

as I thought. it will be done. would you like to say goodbye?

__Yes._ _I whispered.   


The beast dreamed. In that suspended state between living and death he found himself standing at the edge of a creek he had never seen before. Behind was a small cottage. The grass was green, the sky was remarkably blue with few white clouds drifting over it's surface. Standing on a moss covered stone, smiling sadly, was an old woman. Her hair was long and grey, her face well used and kind. The white robe she wore hung to her feet and rustled softly against the green moss. 

"Who are you?" 

In sudden insight her heart had become transparent, revealing the odd black bird that had been his companion all these years. 

"Yes, it's me." 

"Why..." 

"Because this is the end." she said. "This is all that there is for me. Soon, I'll be gone, and you'll have to live without me. But you WILL live. I'm not abandoning you. You only will not be able to see me anymore. But you will have Beauty there by your side, and she will help you, as I never could. Even thru the changes ahead, which I assure you will be great." Her eyes wandered for a moment to the landscape around them. "I never told you why I stayed with you all those years, and now I will never have another chance. I know now that if I had wanted to leave you I could have, despite my bonds, but I stayed because....I love you. I never realised it. You were a son I had never been allowed to have, even though I treated you poorly. I still love you, and always will. Do you understand?" 

"Why do you have to leave?" he whispered. 

She stepped forward, and laid a hand on his cheek. "It is my time." 

"Will I ever see you again?" 

"One day, perhaps." 

He nodded, and she noticed the tears standing in his eyes. 

"Goodbye, then. And I'll see you again...." he said, doing his very best not to cry and succeeding wonderfully. The old witch embraced him for a long moment, and was hardly surprised to find tears on her own cheeks. 

A gentle pulling began on her, and she knew she had no more time left. She kissed his cheek and faded slowly back into the sky, rising transparent, vanishing..... 

Gone..... 

-The End- 

I hope you enjoyed the story. please review, it only takes a moment and I love to hear what you think. 


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